


Bathrooms and Bed Crumbs

by PotionChemist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-31 19:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist
Summary: Head Boy, Head Girl, shared dorm in eighth year... Need I say more?I was prompted on Tumblr, and it got a bit lengthy.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Selections: 
> 
> 24\. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad”
> 
> 34\. “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?”
> 
> 36\. “Is that my shirt?”
> 
> 46\. “What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”
> 
> 48\. “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed”

Hermione thought the worst thing about returning for 8th year had to be her living accommodations. For some reason, and it was likely only Morgana herself knew the reason, Draco Malfoy had been made Head Boy, and as Head Girl, she was expected to share a common room and a bathroom with him. Yes, in a magical castle, they had somehow only managed to put one bathroom in the Heads’ Dorm. She cursed the founders for their lack of foresight. It was really their fault she was in this situation to begin with.

It was a Monday morning, and Hermione was in the shower, deep conditioning her hair. This was the only way to keep her frizz at bay, and it had to be left on for precisely five minutes. She had set a timer with her wand and went about her business, washing her body and then her face. With three minutes left on the timer, she stood underneath the hot spray, running through all of the things she had to accomplish that week in her head. 

_ Owl Harry and Ron, write to St. Mungo’s to see if they’ve made any progress with the Memory Charm, finish the Potions essay, start the Transfiguration essay… _

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud pounding on the door. “Granger! There are _ two _ of us that need to get ready for class! Get the fuck out already!”

“Bloody Malfoy, of all people,” she muttered before replying, “I have to leave my conditioner in for another two minutes! Hold your hippogriffs, Malfoy! Sorry you may have to forego your hair products today!”

“Two minutes, Granger! That’s it and then I’m coming in!” he shouted through the door.

Hermione laughed to herself. “He wouldn’t really…” 

Minus this morning’s rudeness, he’d actually been less of a git this year. Sometimes, he seemed downright courteous to her — holding doors, pulling chairs, pleasant greetings — and it had thrown her for a loop. Most of the time, they worked together amicably, though they hadn’t had many personal conversations, keeping the topics limited to Prefect rounds, school functions, and classwork. 

As soon as she arched her back to rinse her hair with the shower spray, the door opened.

“Granger! Seriously, how fucking long does it take you to shower? Are you masturbating or something?!” 

Hermione stood up straight and peeked around the edge of the shower curtain. “Yes, Malfoy, you caught me. I just couldn’t resist touching myself in our shared bathroom. In fact, I was hoping you’d barge in and service me because I’ve suddenly found myself deeply attracted to you.”

“You’re a bitch,” he hissed.

She closed the shower curtain and finished rinsing her hair, not bothering to answer him.

“Hand me my pink towel?” she asked, her hand extended through the gap.

“I won’t,” he replied sullenly. “I’m not your bloody house-elf.”

She rolled her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “If you want me to get out of the shower, you’ll hand me my bloody towel, Malfoy. I’m not going to step out starkers—”

Before she could finish her sentence, he’d ripped the curtain wide open.

“Get out! Do you think I care about seeing your tits?”

She quickly covered said tits with one arm, completely mortified. “I hate you!” she spat. “I can’t even believe they let you come back this year, let alone made you Head Boy!”

“And I can’t believe you’re that fucking dense! Of course they made me Head Boy! They wanted us to have to live together to teach me a lesson and so you could keep an eye on me! They wanted me to see that there are no differences between purebloods and Muggle-borns!” he bellowed back.

She hadn’t even realised he’d said ‘Muggle-born’ and not ‘Mudblood’. In that moment, she was so furious with him.

She glared at him, grabbing her towel with her free hand. “Well, I would think you’d already have learned that, especially since you watched me bleed on your drawing room floor.”

That statement, it seemed, had rendered him speechless for a moment. She turned her back to him and wrapped her towel around her body.

“Granger, I—”

“Don’t bother,” Hermione said, twisting her sopping hair up and fastening it with a clip before striding past him without a second look. 

* * *

Draco had royally fucked up that morning — not that fucking up was something new for him. What he had meant to be somewhat playful teasing had turned nasty in the blink of an eye, and it was clear that Granger still hated him. He thought he had shown her he was different. He had even said ‘Muggle-born’ this morning, and it was like she hadn’t even noticed.

But, fuck, she was sexy as hell when she was angry. All day, she had been stomping by him in a huff, her curly ponytail bouncing along with her breasts and the hem of her skirt...

He hadn’t let his eyes drop that morning. Despite exposing her in the shower, he didn’t want to see her naked body for the first time because he’d ripped the curtain open. No, he wanted her to show him willingly, to take off her clothes slowly…

He snapped back into reality. How in the name of Salazar was he supposed to fix this?

* * *

Hermione entered their common room well past curfew that night, hoping Malfoy would already be in bed. Fortunately, he was nowhere to be seen, though his oxford had been discarded haphazardly over the back of the sofa, his green and silver tie beside it. She idly wondered if he’d brought some slag back to the room and had left a trail of clothing just to annoy her. She picked it up to send it to the laundry with her own clothes, and then she smelled it.

Gods, his cologne was to die for.

“But he’s still a fucking git,” she reminded herself as she took one last inhale of the masculine scent.

Leaving her schoolbag in the common room, she headed to her bedroom. It had quickly become her sanctuary. When everything in the castle was just… too much… she retreated there. The first thing she noticed when she walked through the door was the bouquet of flowers settled between her pillows. Lily of the Valley. White orchids. Pure white flowers with plenty of greenery. They were beautiful, and she knew there was only one person who could’ve put them there. 

She cautiously approached the bed, worried that this was some kind of prank. Much to her surprise, nothing happened when she picked up the bouquet, though she did find a thick parchment envelope underneath it. Her name was elegantly written across the front of it. Not Granger. Hermione. She slowly opened it and found a letter written in deep emerald ink.

_ Dear Hermione, _

_ Yes, I just used your first name. Given the nature of what I have to say, I think it’s only appropriate to call you by your given name. _

_ Let me start off by apologising for this morning, though in the grand scheme of things, it’s probably the least horrible thing I’ve done to you over the years. I didn’t mean for it to turn into an actual fight between us. I shouldn’t have ripped the curtain open like that. I promise you, I didn’t let my eyes stray, and it’s not for the reason you think. Please just hear me out. _

_ What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids? I know you likely wouldn’t believe me — hell, I barely believe me if I look at my actions alone and not my feelings or thoughts. The first time I can remember feeling something was when you were petrified by the basilisk. I know, I made a big show of saying ‘You’ll be next, Mudbloods!’ right in front of you, but you know why I did that. My father told me it was a good thing, that I’d soon be top of everything. When it actually happened, though, I was terrified you’d never wake up. What was the point of being top of the class if you weren’t there to tease about it? What was the point of blood supremacy if you needed to be dead for me to be ahead of you? _

_ I could list every event from the past five or so years that led to these… feelings I have for you. You punching me in the face, the Yule Ball — bloody hell, the Yule Ball — the way you stood up to Umbridge and cursed that Ravenclaw bint’s face, the way your eyes lingered on me in sixth year with concern… and the strength you showed under my Aunt’s wand. Merlin, even after being tortured, you held on to your secrets and managed to look gorgeous. _

_ I know this is a lot. I’m not expecting anything from you. I hope that we can, at least, develop some sort of friendship this year. I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. Take a few days to think about it. _

_ Can we please start over? _

_ Draco _

Hermione was speechless. She knew it was incredibly difficult for Malfoy to open about anything, but this? This must have been his worst nightmare come to life. Holding the letter in one hand so she could re-read it, she picked up the shirt she’d tossed on the bed with the other, clutching it to her chest. She had never thought she’d receive a love letter, nevermind one from Draco Malfoy. Smelling his cologne again, she felt her heart skip a beat. She knew she wasn’t in love with him, but Merlin, he was gorgeous. And intelligent. And fun to banter with when it wasn’t nasty. And he smelled great. And apparently, he’d been changing for years. 

This wasn’t something to undertake lightly; if he actually thought he was in love with her, she knew she could very easily hurt him. Like she had done to Ron over the summer.

Hermione conjured a vase for the flowers and set them on her small desk before changing into her pyjamas and climbing into bed.

She would definitely take a few days to think about it.

* * *

Draco waited as patiently as he could. When he’d seen Hermione the next morning, she’d politely nodded at him, a crimson tinge in her cheeks. But she hadn’t said anything.

It had been nearly five days, and not a single word had passed between them. He knew telling her had been a risk, but he didn’t think she’d be the type to completely disregard him after a confession like that. She had to have known how hard it was for someone like him to express his feelings. With a sigh, his head hit the pillow. He knew he’d likely be in for another sleepless night filled with the “what if” scenarios in his mind.

Tossing and turning, he was semi-conscious when his doorknob rattled. He quickly sat up, grabbing his wand from the nightstand. The sheets pooled around his waist, leaving his bare torso exposed. When he saw Hermione standing there in an oversized oxford, her legs bare, he thought he was dreaming. When she walked towards the bed, his breath caught in his throat. 

Stupidly, he blurted, “Is that… my shirt?”

She chuckled. “It might be. Are you the one who left a shirt in the common room a few days ago?”

Draco actually stopped to think about it, like it was the most important detail in this situation. His eyes dropped to her hands, and he realised she was holding a tin of biscuits.

“Hungry?” he asked.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Granger,” he began. “It’s the middle of the night.”

She nodded. “I know. Can I… Oh, fuck it all, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep. This was a stupid idea.”

When she spun to walk out of the room, he caught her wrist, determined not to bollocks everything up again. “Hermione, don’t go. What did you want to ask?”

“Would you mind if — I mean, would it be okay if I just sit with you in bed for a few minutes? So we can talk?” 

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m, uh, I’m only wearing pants.”

She blushed. “Well, given you don’t have a shirt on, I was assuming that was the case. Or you were naked.”

He lifted the edge of the sheets, revealing his black shorts and inviting her into his bed. When she got in, he could smell his cologne on the shirt, and it took every bit of his self-restraint not to snog her.

Hermione set the biscuit tin in front of him. “I didn’t know what else to bring. It’s not like you give a man flowers to apologise.”

Smiling, he replied, “Did you get the message from the flowers?”

She looked puzzled. “They were lovely, and I did find the letter…”

Draco nearly laughed; he should’ve known she wouldn’t be versed in the language of flowers. “Lily of the Valley signifies humility and the promise of a fresh start. White orchids are for sincerity. I chose white flowers as a symbol of peace. That’s all I want for us — peace and a fresh start.”

Hermione just nodded, though he thought he may have caught a sheen of tears in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you since I read the letter. I just needed to sort things out in my head,” she admitted, and Draco felt her shift, moving closer to him. Their hips were touching, and he considered this a good sign. He decided to take another big risk and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When she didn’t pull away, he almost groaned with relief. She leaned into him and let out a sigh. 

“So, did you come into my room and wake me up at 4am to cuddle?” he teased.

“I’m going to talk. It’s just not the easiest thing,” she began. “This summer, well, I… I tried to have a relationship with Ron after he said something similar to me, hoping what I felt would turn into more, and it didn’t. I really hurt him, and I didn’t want to do that to you, too.”

Waiting her out, Draco opened the biscuit tin and grabbed one, breaking it in half to share with her. She nibbled at it, but she didn’t resume speaking. “Hermione, I told you in the letter — I don’t expect anything from you,” he said, hoping to ease her worry.

“But that’s the thing, Draco,” she whispered, using his given name. “Even though I’ve been friends with Ron for years, I never felt… physical chemistry with him. Things were comfortable, and he was sweet, but it wasn’t what I wanted, especially not for the rest of my life.”

He didn’t know what message she was trying to convey. “What are you saying?”

She looked him in the eye. “I feel physical chemistry with you.” Holding his shirt to her face, she continued, “I get a rush just from smelling your cologne. And you’ve always been gorgeous.”

“So… you’re lusting after me?” Draco asked.

Hermione laughed. “It’s not just that. I like that you’re nearly as smart as I am—”

Feeling more confident, he interrupted her. “Give me more credit than that. We’re equally smart, Granger.”

“Will you let me bloody finish?” she sniped, rolling her eyes. “This is me, admitting that I feel something for you, and you’re being a prat.”

Smirking, he kept quiet. He was getting what he wanted, after all. She was in his bed, and he was soon going to take her fully into his arms and keep here there.

“Well, I was going to say you’ve clearly changed, but maybe I was wrong there,” Hermione observed with a smile. “But I like our banter when it’s not nasty, so I’m glad you’re not completely reformed.”

She grabbed a biscuit and started breaking it into small bites, eating one piece at a time.

Draco nearly groaned. “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed, Granger.”

“Oh? Does that upset you, Malfoy? Are you getting mad?” she asked, taunting.

He was still feeling a bit uncertain, but he decided to turn a mock glare on her anyway, trying to pretend that he was actually mad.

“Good,” she whispered, moving into his lap and placing her lips against his ear. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

Draco tangled his fingers in her hair and moved his lips to hers, kissing her soundly. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she let out a small moan against his lips. It was like he’d died and gone to heaven, and he was so happy it was Saturday morning. He’d keep her in his crumb-filled bed all day. 

  
  



	2. Six Months Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no intentions to continue this story. However, these two were in my head when I decided to write my last Tumblr prompt. Chapter 2 will fulfill that prompt, and Chapter 3 is filthy smut. You can choose to stop at the cute ending or move on to the juicy bits. lol
> 
> These were the prompts:
> 
> “I think you’re just afraid to be happy”  
“Why are you so nice to me”  
“If we get caught I’m blaming you”  
“I can’t believe you don’t like Disney movies”  
“You’re seriously like a man-child.”
> 
> Along with the bed crumb one again... which will be in Chapter 3.

It had been several months since Hermione had snuck into Draco’s room and gotten crumbs all over his bed… before snogging him within an inch of his life and making him the happiest wizard in all of Hogwarts.

In fact, it was now April, and it had been exactly six months since that night. They’d been on several dates, including many in the Muggle world while they’d been on holiday breaks, and Draco was beginning to consider himself an expert in all things Hermione. She loved movies and music and all things girls considered  _ cute _ , which had initially shocked him. As different as she was from most girls, it seemed she was also very much the same in some ways. There was so much more to her than books and cleverness.

For this particular date, he’d wanted to do something special. Even though he’d gotten permission from McGonagall to leave the grounds, he was letting Hermione think they were sneaking around for the excitement of it. Draco knew she secretly loved a thrill.

“Malfoy, if we get caught, I’m blaming you!” she hissed as they went through the tunnel that led from the Room of Requirement to the Hog’s Head.

He laughed. “Granger, the Prefects are covering everything tonight. We won’t get caught. I arranged everything so no one could possibly need us tonight.”

“All night?” she replied with a smirk, grabbing his bum.

There was his girl — ready for adventure and some alone time. Before she could realize what he was doing, he moved in front of her, lifted her up, and pressed her into the wall of the passageway, kissing her soundly. She moaned against his mouth, much like she had that very first night, and Draco knew he would never tire of hearing it.

When he broke the kiss and set her down, he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, “Definitely all night.”

They linked their fingers and resumed walking down the path.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Hermione asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

Draco thought for a moment, wondering how much he could get away with before she smacked him. “Well, Granger, there are many reasons… but you do give a fantastic blow job. I think that’s my favourite one.”

Her free hand punched his arm with a surprising amount of force.

“Well, I know what I won’t be doing tonight,” she quipped. “That is not something to be spoken about where anyone can hear us!”

Draco made a show of looking around. “Really? Who do you think is going to hear us in this abandoned tunnel to Hogsmeade?”

Shrugging, she said, “No clue. I just wanted to hit you for it.”

This relationship, their easy banter and comfortable actions, was something Draco never would’ve imagined in his wildest dreams. It was so different from the other relationships he’d had or seen throughout the course of his life. Even when they were in public, with the stares and the whispers that followed them, things seemed so bloody right. They had learned to shrug it all off, to let the world fall away and live in their own little bubble. No one had to understand their relationship, and they both knew acceptance would come over time. 

When they reached the Hog’s Head, they greeted Aberforth warmly and thanked him for use of the passageway and his Floo.

“Anything for you, Ms. Granger. You know that,” he said kindly.

Hermione blushed and nodded — Draco knew she was still uncomfortable with her celebrity status, and she heard phrases like that often since the end of the war.

They stepped out of the Floo in The Leaky Cauldron moments later, and Draco led the way to an old Muggle cinema. When he bought two tickets for a movie called  _ Lady and the Tramp _ , she looked at him quizzically.

He smiled at her and said, “I talked to one of the Muggle-born girls from Hufflepuff. She told me about these Disney movies, and I saw this cinema was playing one.”

“Right,” she said, forcing a smile. “Well, let’s go get some snacks and find our seats.”

Draco was perplexed by her reaction; he had been assured that all girls loved these animated films, and he knew Hermione kept little beanbag animals in her room. Weren’t those from movies like this?

Nervously, he paid for popcorn and candy. He carefully watched Hermione’s face, hoping he hadn’t totally screwed this up.

Hermione climbed all the way to the back row of seats in the cinema and sat in the exact middle. The room was completely empty, save them. Draco looked over at her, and she seemed distant. He shot a quick Scourgify at the floor before setting their snacks down and lacing his fingers through hers. He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back, turning to look at him.

“Have you seen this movie before?” he asked.

She nodded. “When I was about six or seven, my dad took me to see it.”

Fuck. He hadn’t thought of that. Was that something Muggle parents did? They took their children to see animated films? Draco couldn’t remember going on an outing with his parents when he was that young.

Before he had a chance to reply, the film started. He kept quiet, but every so often, he’d glance over to check on her. She munched on her popcorn and watched the two dogs from two very different lifestyles fall in love. It was strikingly fitting for being about two fictional dogs.

When it was over, they stood and walked out in silence. He didn’t know how to broach the subject. After a few minutes, he blurted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I had no idea your father took you to this movie obviously, and I know how much you’re struggling with them not knowing you—”

Hermione cut him off with a laugh. That just confused him even more.

“Oh, Draco, it’s nothing like that. I mean, yeah, I was a little bit sad when I thought of my dad, but…”

Draco held his breath, waiting for her to finish her sentence.

Hermione quickly said, “I just don’t like Disney movies all that much. Really, it was sweet of you to ask whoever you asked, but—”

“Seriously? That was adorable! I can’t believe you don’t like Disney movies! You have those little bean-filled cats and the otter—”

Hermione bit her lips, clearly trying not to laugh, and then interrupted him. “The Beanie Babies? Those  _ are _ from my dad. Apparently they’re wildly popular with American Muggles, so when he found out my Patronus was an otter, he found one for me. He also knew I loved cats, though my mum had a fit when I brought Crooks home the first time.”

Draco looked at her, completely at a loss. He settled on making a joke. “Well, I thought the movie was amazing. Those two dogs overcame so much to be together, and did you see when they ate that spaghetti and ended up kissing? That was so romantic.”

This time, she couldn’t contain her laughter. “You’re seriously like a man-child, Draco.”

“I think you’re just afraid to be happy, Hermione. That’s why you don’t like Disney movies — they make everyone happy.”

She grabbed his hand and stopped him in the middle of the pavement. “I’m not afraid to be happy. You make me incredibly happy.” Placing a gentle kiss on his lips, she whispered. “In fact, I’m happier than I ever thought I could be with a prat like you.”

Draco wrapped her in a tight embrace and kissed the top of her head. “Well, love, you make me pretty happy, as well.” He paused for effect. “Even if you’re a monster who doesn’t like cute puppy dogs and the accordion.”


	3. The Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this picks up abruptly... and the smut begins right away. It's a little silly, but I think it's fun.

Once again, she punched him playfully. “You know, I broke your nose once. I could do it again.”

“Why are you so abusive? Here I am, being incredibly sweet and taking you to a romantic film, and you’re hitting me.”

Hermione waved it off. “Okay, Mr. Romance, do you have any other tricks up your sleeve tonight?”

After checking to see if there were any Muggles around, Draco quickly pulled her into an alley and Apparated them to a wizarding hotel in London. Hermione looked around the room and saw the candles on the end tables, their low light flickering in the dark room.

“Okay, I take what I said earlier back,” she announced.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “You loved the movie, right?”

With a devilish smirk, she dropped to her knees and started working the button on his trousers, opening them just enough to free his cock. “Nope. You will be getting an anniversary blow job.”

When she took him into her mouth, his prick quickly got the message and hardened in record speed. “Thank Merlin,” he groaned before tangling his fingers in her hair. “I wasn’t lying. This is really one of the reasons I’m nice to you.”

Hermione retaliated by biting down gently, just enough to acknowledge his comment, but not enough to kill his erection. Draco continued carding his fingers through her hair, hardly daring to look down as she sucked. Watching her would only turn him on more, and he could already clearly imagine her lips sliding along his shaft, her tongue darting out to circle his tip, her brown eyes filled with lust and desire looking up at him in his mind.

“Fuck, Granger,” he hissed when her hands grabbed his arse and pulled him closer, working him deeper into her mouth and to the back of her throat. “Oh, fuck, when did you learn how to do that?”

She pulled back, releasing him from her mouth, and started laughing. “You don’t want to know,” she gasped between laughs. 

Draco stood there awkwardly, hard cock begging for attention, while she got herself under control. Her lips wrapped around his tip and he looked down at her, causing another laughing jag to start.

“I’m sorry!” she breathed. “I have to tell you now!”

Draco sighed, sorry he’d ever made the comment. “When, or how, did you learn that, Hermione?”

“Don’t be cranky. It’s not like I’m going to leave you hanging, Malfoy. Ginny told me that the last time she went to Harry’s—”

Draco held his hand up, gesturing for her to stop. “Nope. We’re not talking about Weaslette and Potter. I get the picture.”

“She told me how she does it and I wanted to try it,” Hermione said, conveying the message with less detail. “Did you like it?”

“I did. Do give her my thanks next time you talk about… technique,” Draco joked.

Hermione just smirked and resumed her ministrations, taking him even deeper into her mouth this time and swallowing around him. “Fuck. God, I love how this feels, but you need to stop. I’m thinking about Potter and Weaselette.”

Hermione cracked up again. “Dear god, I’m really fucking this little celebration up tonight.”

Draco lifted her from the floor and tossed her on the bed. “You’re not. You’re perfect. I love that we can laugh, even if I’m likely going to think of Weaselette every time you suck my cock for the rest of our lives.”

Hermione shrugged. “What can I say — she’s talented. She’s been doing this longer than I have.”

Draco kissed Hermione, dying to make her stop talking. Her tongue found its way into his mouth and his hands slid up her skirt, stroking her through her knickers. Before long, she was rocking against his hand, trying to speed up her release. He pulled away and started undressing fully, stepping out of his trousers and shoes and stripping his shirt off. Hermione had quickly removed her skirt and shirt, but she kept her bra and knickers on, knowing that Draco loved removing those garments on his own when he was good and ready to ‘unwrap his present’.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, looking down at her lust-filled eyes. “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

She scooted back on the bed, rearranging herself so her head was on one of the fluffy pillows, and Draco followed, kneeling between her thighs. He worked her knickers down her legs and tossed them on the floor. Running his palms up and down her inner thighs, he pushed them further open, making space for his face at apex. He dropped down and started sucking on the skin he’d just rubbed, teasing her.

“Draco, please. I want you,” she said softly.

“Hmmm? What was that, Hermione?”

His tongue trailed up her inner thigh, stopping where leg met body and then repeating the action on the other side. Her hands moved to his hair, gently tugging his face towards her center. Smirking, he licked her slit once, eliciting a moan and causing her to arch off the bed.

“Do I need pointers?” he asked before doing it again.

“What?” she gasped.

Draco sucked her clit into his mouth for the briefest of seconds.

“I asked if I need pointers,” he replied, punctuating it with another suck.

“Fuck! Gods, no!” she cried.

Varying his technique again, he rubbed his tongue against the nub a few times. “Good, because I don’t think Goyle would have any for me,” he said before really getting into it, concentrating his oral attention on her clit and sliding two fingers inside of her.

Hermione managed a few chuckles before she started moaning and breathing heavily. Her hips were moving in time with his fingers, and Draco knew she was already close to coming apart for him. Wanting to drive her crazy, he backed off a little, slowing the movement of his fingers and tongue. Much to his shock, she didn’t complain; her moans decreased in volume but increased in length. The sounds of her pleasure were intoxicating him, working their way under his skin. He withdrew his fingers, wrapping his arms around her thighs and spreading them wider.

“You going to come for me, Granger?” Draco asked, blowing against her slit.

She responded by arching up, her pussy rubbing against his lips. Placing open-mouthed sucking kisses over every inch of her, he gave her everything he knew she loved. Once his mouth latched onto her clit again, his fingers re-entered her and found the spot. She cried out. 

“Fuck, right there! Please, don’t stop this time!”

He had no intention of it, her walls already fluttering around his fingers as they twisted inside of her. A moment later, she moaned louder, nearly screaming as she fell apart.

When he had moved up her body, sliding his cock deep inside of her, she met his eyes and said, “No pointers needed. That was amazing. I don’t know what I’d do if you got any better at that.”

Draco started thrusting, not wanting her to fully come down from her orgasm. “You’d come even harder if I got better at it,” he teased.

Hermione moaned again, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Not possible.”

Draco grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, knowing she loved it when he held her in place with his body. “Challenge accepted,” he grunted. “You can always come harder, Granger. Haven’t I proven that to you already?”

She was meeting his thrusts in earnest, her hips snapping up to meet his. Looking down, he saw her eyes getting hazy again. She didn’t answer, but he knew she would eventually.

“Can I be on top?” she asked, and Draco released her hands to wrap his arms around her and flip them.

She sat up tall and unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts. Draco reached up and palmed them, and Hermione started rolling her hips, grinding against him in the way she did when she was determined to make herself come. As she kept moving, he saw the frustration crossing her face, her body on edge but not tipping over.

“Don’t think about it so much, love. Just feel,” he said, his tone deep.

Her head dropped back and her palms braced on his thighs. Draco reached forward, parting her folds more and rubbing at her clit. With a scream, she started moving faster, sliding against him as quickly as possible. Her quim clenched around him as her orgasm began, squeezing his cock tightly and nearly driving him over the edge as well.

“Fucking hell, Granger, you’re going to make me come,” he groaned, and she sped up even more.

Taking this as a cue that she was okay with him letting go, he drove up into her harder, trying to prolong her pleasure. The pants and moans coming from her mouth signaled he was accomplishing that mission. When he felt the release of his orgasm, he gripped her hips tightly, stilling her while he was buried as deep inside of her as he could be.

“Malfoy,” she breathed, “that was so good.”

“It’s always good between us, Granger. That was fucking amazing,” he answered.

He released her hips, and she leaned down to kiss him slowly and sweetly. Savouring the feel and taste of her, Draco wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him.

“I love you,” she murmured. “So much.”

Draco couldn’t breathe. Those few words had paralyzed him. In all this time, she’d never said them, and he hadn’t allowed himself to get his hopes up. She pulled back so she could look into his eyes, her curls enveloping their head like a curtain. When he looked at her, he finally exhaled.

“I love you, too, Hermione,” he answered.

She leaned back down, her lips grazing his ear. “I know. You told me before this all began, but you’ve never said it again, so I held back. I wasn’t sure—”

Draco pulled her head back so he could kiss her lips and end her ridiculous ramble. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to say it back. That’s all. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she responded before rolling off of him. 

She snuggled into his side and he reached for the nightstand. When she saw the tin of biscuits, she laughed and pried the lid off. When she pulled out a biscuit and broke it in half, crumbs fell on the comforter.

“Well, at least they’re outside the sheets this time,” Hermione joked.

With a teasing grin, Draco said, “Well, if you end up covered in bed crumbs, you can always go into the bathroom and shower. I could repeat the scene where I flung the curtain open in a very different way.”

She just smiled at him, and his heart skipped a beat.

How did he, Draco Malfoy, get so lucky?


End file.
